


Telephone Line

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: For a Price [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Panties, Phone Sex, Sugar Daddy, hoo boy did you know I have no self control whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9432389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: Yamcha likes those panties a little more than he thought he would.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [No1fan15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/No1fan15/gifts).



> UM so originally Red Lace was going to be the only thing I wrote for this universe but no1fan15 asked me to write more one time when I was taking requests over on my Tumblr and now I've spiralled into sugar daddy hell and there's no saving me
> 
> (I'm gifting this to them on here because of reasons)

Yamcha cleared his throat. "I'm fine, I guess. What's wrong? Why are you calling?"

"Nothing's wrong." Tien's voice was a little tinny over the phone line. "Just wanted to call and see how you were."

"Oh." Yamcha twirled the phone cord and relaxed a little into the arm of the couch. "Well, uh, thanks."

"Seriously, how are you?" Tien sounded worried. "You're eating enough?"

"Yes, Mom." Yamcha shook his head, but smiled. Ever since he no longer had rent worries to deal with thanks to his…"agreement" with Tien, he was able to pay for the rest of his expenses a lot easier. Sure, he wasn't eating _well_ , but he wasn't going hungry, either. And really, it was kind of nice to have someone worrying about him like this. It almost felt like he had an actual relationship, not an "agreement."

"Are you sure?" Tien asked. "I know how much you like to cook; I wouldn't want you being denied that."

"Tien, I'm _fine_. Honestly, I am." Yamcha shifted and felt the lace of his panties move against his ass. Ever since Tien had sent him an entire bouquet of lingerie roses, asking him to wear them more often as part of their "agreement," Yamcha had started wearing them even when he wasn't sure he'd see Tien. Sometimes Tien would call him up out of the blue and ask him to come over, and rather than change and go it was more convenient to just go. But more than that, Yamcha found he _liked_ them. He liked the secrecy, the intimacy. Even if red really wasn't his colour.

"You know, I'd, uh, be willing to…" Tien trailed off. Yamcha could practically hear him choosing his words. "Pay extra," Tien finally forced out. "So you could cook for yourself more. You know. If you did something a little extra for me."

Yamcha could feel his face warming. "You…want me to come over? I mean, I can–or you can come here, Puar's not home."

"Neither is Chiaotzu." Tien's voice immediately dropped to a purr. "Well, if neither of our housemates is home, maybe neither of us should go anywhere."

"So…you _don't_ want to do anything," Yamcha said. He was confused.

"No, I was thinking…ugh." Tien sighed, but it wasn't his annoyed sigh–it was his embarrassed one. Yamcha wasn't sure when he'd gotten to know Tien's sighs so well, but it was probably somewhere between becoming friends and becoming _this_. "What are you wearing?"

Yamcha blinked. "Phone sex?" he asked. "Really?"

"Shut up, I thought it'd be sexy," Tien huffed. "If you _don't_ want a bonus, then that's fine, but I thought–"

"I'm wearing the panties," Yamcha blurted. He swallowed, face reddening, but plowed onward when Tien didn't say anything. "You asked me to wear them more often and I–I'm wearing them right now."

"Yamcha," Tien's voice was hoarse, "that's–that's so hot, holy shit."

Yamcha's heart flopped over in his chest. "Yeah?" Hell yes. He was getting this bonus.

"You wearing anything else?"

"Yeah, I've got my blue sweatpants and a t-shirt–"

"Take them off. But leave the panties." Tien's breathing had quickened and Yamcha's responded in kind. His hands shook as his fumbled his way out of his clothes and scrambled for the phone again.

"Okay," he said, leaning back on the couch, his legs slightly parted and his blood rushing south. He'd never had phone sex before. "Hey," he said, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "What're _you_ wearing?"

"Now? Nothing." Yamcha swallowed, picturing Tien hurriedly throwing his clothes into a corner, sitting naked and erect in the big armchair next to his phone. He bit his lip as Tien started talking again. "Know what I'd do if I had you here right now?"

"What?" Yamcha's hand slid down his chest and over his abs, his breathing running shallow. He skipped around his groin and instead stroked down his inner thigh.

"I'd get you on my lap and touch you all over. I'd take my time about it, too. Are you touching yourself right now, Yamcha?"

Yamcha's eyes were shut, picturing himself grinding down on Tien's lap. "Yeah," he breathed. His fingers ran teasingly over the panties, and he imagined they were Tien's.

"Oh, fuck, me too." Tien's breathing was ragged, and he could scarcely talk anymore. "Yamcha, I'm close–tell me what you're doing to yourself."

"I'm– I'm just teasing myself right now, I haven't even gone into the panties yet."

"Fuck. Good. Touch yourself through them until I tell you not to."

Yamcha held the phone away from his face to moan. "Don't do that," Tien panted. "I want to hear you." Yamcha gasped and groaned, the indirect contact no longer enough. "That's better." Tien's answering moan came directly into Yamcha's ear, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut, images of him and Tien moving together playing out on the insides of his eyelids.

"Please," he said, and Tien gasped "yes, yes, do it," and Yamcha reached into his underwear to finally touch himself properly, his hips bucking into his hand, and the only sounds were his hand brushing against his cock and panties, and his moans mixing with Tien's gasping, and then Tien was choking out Yamcha's name and Yamcha knew he'd just come, and with a wordless cry he wasn't far behind.

His chest heaved and Tien panted in his ear from across the phone line. Yamcha pulled his hand from his underwear, gazing dazedly at the sticky white goop covering it. He was getting _way_ too into this thing he had with Tien. It was bad–not the agreement itself, just how much Yamcha loved it. There was something so perverse about allowing himself to be used for money, but something in his gut told him that if it was for anyone other than Tien he wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much.

So when Tien asked "Can you come over anyway?" Yamcha was hardly hesitant to oblige him.


End file.
